#Seventh Cog

[earth-b0y]

Hee, Teeth put a little ribbon in my hair =P

[vaunted-and-vilified]

The Rose Unblown.

[hbdttg]

“Hold the elevator!”

The elevator doors are mere inches from closing, but Steve dutifully shoots a hand out to stop them. They slide back open, revealing a flustered-looking man about Steve’s age on the other side.

He’s dressed head to toe in black, decked out in a simple black pullover with a modest V-neck, snug black jeans, and all-black leather Chucks with a messenger bag slung across his chest. The messenger bag is, unsurprisingly, also black, but covered in a collection of tough-looking patches and pins in varying shades of—well, it’s mostly red, dark red, white, and some yellows, but the pops of color still stand out against his otherwise monochrome ensemble.

His dark, curly hair reaches a little past his shoulders and he’s got this frankly outdated fringe that, despite its very 80’s vibe, frames his face perfectly. His eyes are large and expressive, and he’s got this frantic energy about him that reminds Steve of a live wire. He’s nothing like the buttoned-up suits Steve usually shares his elevator rides with each morning, and it’s a refreshing change of pace.

The man gives Steve a thankful look before stepping into the elevator and leaning against the side wall. “Thanks,” he says, a little distractedly. He’s got a pair big of headphones on and Steve realizes he’s in the middle of a phone call when he adds, “No, not you, Gare, I was thanking the guy who held the elevator for me. Yeah, this building’s crazy. There’s a whole-ass sixtieth floor—guess I’m kind of a big deal now.” He lets out a small, self-deprecating chuckle, reaching for the panel beside him.

As the doors close and the elevator starts to slowly ascend, Steve notices the man pressed the button for the floor above his. Both the fifty-second and fifty-third floor buttons are lit in a halo of green.

“You know I didn’t want to leave you guys,” the man continues, a bit more quietly now that he and Steve are sharing the same small space, “but shit, I couldn’t turn down the pay.” He scoffs. “Ugh, listen to me, just another cog in the capitalist machine. Man, if high school me could see me now. High school Eddie used to talk big about forced conformity and rising up against the man, and now here I am—”

Steve tries not to listen to the one-sided conversation going on beside him, but it’s difficult when a moment later, he hears his own name.

“—clocking in for my first day at fuckin’ Harrington Hargrove Hagan. The pretentious bastards can’t even shorten it to an acronym or something. God forbid they have to miss out on the sound of their own names.”

Steve manages to hold in the obnoxious snort that threatens to escape him. He’s starting to think he might like this guy—Eddie, his mind supplies helpfully—but Eddie’s next words have him freezing in place.

“And it’s nepo baby central. Yeah, pretty sure all the H kiddies are hotshot brokers with the company. All the biggest accounts—gee, I wonder why.”

Steve can feel the back of his neck burning hot with a mixture of annoyance and shame as Eddie cracks a caustic joke about silver spoons and trust funds.

“You’re kidding, one of them works at this branch? Damn, I guess I’ll just keep an eye out for the guy who most looks like he’s got a giant stick up his ass.”

This is quickly becoming the longest elevator ride of Steve’s life. He grits his teeth and stares fixedly at the floor display panel above the elevator doors, watching the numbers climb higher and higher. Thirty-seven. Thirty-eight.

“Listen, I should go, but let’s grab a drink at the Hideout later. Cool, see you then. Bye.”

Forty-one. Forty-two.

Eddie removes his headphones and shoves them into his bag, angling slightly toward Steve. “Sorry about that, man.”

“You’re good,” Steve says shortly, not looking away from the changing numbers. They reach the forty-seventh floor, and all the while, he feels Eddie’s gaze on him.

It’s not like he’s openly staring, but there’s a certain weight to his furtive glances that completely counteracts his attempts at subtlety. It’s the type of gaze Steve’s familiar with, one that he’s been on the receiving end of since his sophomore year of high school when he hit a growth spurt and actually learned how to style his hair. Assessing. Appreciative. Interested.

And in any other situation, Steve would gladly engage. He’d turn on the charm, quirk the corner of his lip up in that way Robin always rolls her eyes at but reluctantly acknowledges as ‘passably effective’, and maybe even make up an excuse to sidle a bit closer.

But he’s not giving this guy his A-game.

Instead, Steve waits in stifling silence until the fifty-second floor is announced and the doors slide open. He steps forward to exit, but at the very last moment stops in the doorway.

He initially wasn’t going to say anything—though, a past version of himself would have definitely spat something biting and bitchy to Eddie about his snark, would have snootily told him to take his little assumptions and shove them where the sun don’t shine—but sooner or later Eddie’s going to realize he and Steve are colleagues, and he’s going to remember shit-talking him in an elevator on his first day of work, and it’s going to be awkward and uncomfortable.

Steve’s just speeding up the timeline, pushing for the sooner rather than the later, when he decides to spin around and fully face Eddie.

“I think you pressed the wrong button,” he says, all sweet and helpful like he’s talking to Dustin’s mom over a sink full of soapy dishes. “Couldn’t help but overhear that you work at Harrington Hargrove Hagan. It’s on the fifty-second floor, not the fifty-third.” Then he takes a small step backward, moving out into the carpeted hallway.

“Oh.” Eddie scrambles for his phone, unlocking it and scrolling quickly until he finds something that has him straightening up and smiling gratefully at Steve. “I guess I remembered it wrong. Thank you.” He pushes away from the wall, takes a step forward to follow Steve out, but then stops dead in his tracks.

Steve gleefully notes the line of Eddie’s gaze, how it lingers at the breast pocket of his shirt, where, clipped to a retractable badge reel, his building keycard hangs. Eddie evidently hadn’t noticed it during the elevator ride up, but he’s certainly fixated on it now.

Perhaps on the abstract yet easily recognizable Harrington Hargrove Hagan logo in the top right corner.

But more likely, based on the positively mortified look growing on Eddie’s face, on the name clearly printed underneath Steve’s photo in bold, black lettering: STEVE HARRINGTON.

Slowly, Eddie drags his eyes back up to Steve’s face. He stares in silence, eyes bugging nearly out of his head, face turning a concerning shade of pink, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, and his reaction is extreme enough that a small part of Steve is almost inclined to take pity on the guy and laugh it all off.

Unfortunately for Eddie, a bigger part of Steve thinks Eddie looks kind of cute all red-faced and embarrassed like this. So he glances down at himself thoughtfully before turning his attention back on Eddie. “Wow,” he says with exaggerated astonishment, “now that you mention it, I guess I do look like I’ve got a giant stick up my ass.”

As if on cue, the elevator chimes in warning. The doors begin to close, but Eddie just remains rooted in place with that same wide-eyed, horrified expression.

When it becomes clear he has no intentions of actually exiting the elevator, Steve chuckles and wiggles his fingers in a cheeky little wave. “Welcome to the team,” he says airily, before Eddie’s still-blushing face disappears behind the elevator doors.

/ Now with a Part 2!

[chasing-caws]

On my seventh viewing of Furiosa, I truly took a moment to appreciate the scene where she first appears to Dementus after he wakes when the sandstorm has passed.

When we first see her, she’s standing atop the dune, silhouetted by the sun, almost like a mirage. Like a goddess of vengeance and fury here to exact her price for all of his sins.

And that’s exactly what she does. While she’s here for his crimes against her, she also in a way gets justice, gets vengeance, for everyone he has ever harmed. She brings down her hammer of vengeance with prejudice and it’s so earned and cathartic.

And even if vengeance cannot fill that hole in her heart, it’s enough. Enough for the moment, to get her through those numb four years before she decides enough is enough.

When the peach tree finally blooms, representing a possible return to hope that she claws her way back to from the empty, numb pit she has inhabited for the past four years.

And she takes that hope, and uses it to try to gain redemption, for falling into that pit, for being a cog in the machine of a man like Dementus, infinitely different yet infinitely more cruel. She tries to bring the wives to her home, only to find it gone.

As she collapses to the sand with a defeated primal scream, it seems she’s truly given up. That there’s nothing left for her, no way for her to atone for her complicity in a cruel hierarchy.

Until Max suggests the absolute batshit crazy idea of taking over the citadel, and, even more batshit crazily, she agrees.

They use the very tactic Dementus used to try and trick Immortan Joe, the one she pointed out to him, that it was a diversion. And more so, it works. And the moment he realizes that she’s going back to take the citadel, you have to wonder, does he remember, in that moment, the rage-filled woman who revealed the truth of what Dementus was doing? Does he remember the rage and fury in her eyes when she grabbed him and snarled that Dementus was hers to punish? Did he remember the darkest of angels, a goddess of vengeance and fury? Does he remember that chill that ran through him before he shook her off?

[drarryspecificrecs]

2023.08 ~ Top 10 longest fics posted on AO3

1. Good Intentions by Gloworm13 [E, 382k]

►Harry never expected a conversation over returning Draco's wand. [...] Harry can't cope, especially when his group of peers is sent back to Hogwarts to finish their interrupted Seventh Year. And Draco Malfoy is wholly unprepared for facing the love of his life every fucking day now that he knows.

2. About Everything We Fucked Up and Tried to Fix by @zoooooey0610 [E, 246k]

►The time is the Dark Middle Ages, even with Voldemort defeated, the Wizarding world is still a place where Omegas are seen as properties. Couldn’t sleep, Harry came across ‘The Slytherin Wall of Sluts’ that changed the rest of his life, but the cog wheel of destiny may have started to move long before that. Twelve years later, he was confronted with the presents of destiny, and struggled to deal with the mess. However, every step he took seemed to be another mistake.

3. Cut From the Sky by @mallstars [E, 150k]

►"I'm stuck in a time loop, reliving November 2nd. This is the 111th time I've lived through today." Draco stilled. His moody eyes, the tension in his hands where he gripped onto his umbrella, the careful mask of blankness flickering over his face — everything about him was so difficult and so very dear to Harry. "Ah," said Draco, "and?"

4. After the Rain Falls by @shinigami714 [E, 95k]

►After the events of the war, all Harry wants to do is forget. For everything to return to normal. But things never were normal for him, and the war left many marks on him not so easily forgotten. When he receives a surprising offer to return to Hogwarts in a continuing education program, Harry jumps at the chance, and despite his best efforts to deal with his problems alone, discovers along the way that quite often, two minds are greater than one.

5. guard dog by chrismare [?, 63k]

►The first thing Draco ever loved was the Manor. Not the house- it was too big, too quiet, too cold- but the grounds that surrounded it. He grew up on stinging soles, running barefoot through his own little world. One of the house elves had cleaned the tiny cuts on his feet once and told him that he'd get used to it, that he'd grow calluses and it would stop hurting. It never really did.

6. Dating Draco Malfoy by @queenofthyme [M, 60k]

►Draco Malfoy is dating his way through Harry Potter’s endless pool of ex-boyfriends. With the help of Harry’s expert dating advice, he just might find exactly who he’s looking for...

7. Snogging Lessons by Revolocard [T, 58k]

►Harry Potter thought the hardest part about being the Chosen One would be preparing to fight Voldemort. He didn't expect it might actually be missing out on all the normal teenaged stuff. Now in sixth year, Harry feels like an outsider, too worried about being the subject of another Witch Weekly article to try to take part. When he and Draco Malfoy land in a semester's worth of detention, Draco is delighted and horrified to discover the Boy Who Lived is not only a virgin, he doesn't even know how to snog. Secret snogging lessons. It's not like it's anything more than just catching Harry up a bit. What could go wrong?

8. That Marriage Contract by Umeko [E, 54k]

►What happens when the forced marriage and male pregnancy trope combine to spring a surprise on the Boy Who Lived and his arch-rival turned unwitting fiancé? And they all have two dearly departed grandfathers to thank for the mess.

9. Terrible People by @wolfpants [E, 52k] --- ART by @getawayfox

►What happens when Harry and Draco end up on the same Muggle gay cruise? They certainly didn't plan for it to happen (but their friends might have). They're stuck with each other for a week, they might as well make the most of it, right? Featuring a holiday-long game of Truth or Dare, a very ill-judged FWB proposition, decades-long pining, lots of gin, and a small pair of green swimming trunks.

10. and i ignite by @pixiedunhoff [M, 51k]

►Draco Malfoy loves attention - and the Muggle world has given it to him in spades. Through a surprising and humbling series of events, Draco has achieved tremendous success in the music industry. He has recouped his fortune, earned legions of adoring fans, and gets loads of attention. Over the years, it has still never been quite enough… Until the subject of his more sizzling songs abruptly barges back into his life, demanding answers.

—

※ Word count: 1k ~ 10k

※ Word count: 10k ~ 40k

The Best and Worst of Times after the War (aka A Tale of Two Soldiers) by WriterwithaWindow [M, 11k]

chasing embers by ryyss [M, 29k]

Firestarter by Justlikewriting [M, 22k]

For each time I see you, things change a little bit by Writelikethat [M, 10k]

i think i might be gay by @stvrlvghtwrites [T, 10k]

Just Nice Things by wodnica [E, 31k]

No One Likes a Mad Woman by @thomasbrodiesandwich [T, 17k]

only the brave by slytheringoddess945 [T, 10k]

Possibly, perhaps be my boyfriend? by @23ster [G, 16k]

Seek, And Ye Shall Find by @nami-writes [T, 14k]

The Switch by @ashiiblack [M, 11k]

Take Me Back (To The Night We Met) by @onelatenight-longago [T, 12k]

What’s Mine is Yours by @fluxweeed [E, 17k]

—

Ongoing Fest/Exchange

※ Fics would be listed elsewhere.

HD Wireless 2023 | @hd-wireless

HP Bodice Ripper Fest 2023 | @hp-bodiceripper

HP Law of Attraction Fest | @hp-lawofattraction-fest

[definesanity]

SAGAU, in which you observe the eyes of the Tenth/Fourth(?), Seventh and Third Fatui Harbingers.

Arlecchino's eyes are a gateway into the void.

Pure black, with only two red x-shaped pupils showing life. Even then, they barley move, and her expression is almost always tired.

Arlecchino herself was a curious individual. The same could be said for yourself, you suppose.

"I've been told by many that my eyes are... unusual." she said. Her eyes broke contact with yours, the small crimson crosses looking around before back to you.

"I think they look... well, like yours." you replied. There are many words for them, but you settled on just one.

"Hm. I see."

They say if you gaze into the void, the void gazes back. Then, does that mean you and the void can learn more about the other?

---------------

Sandrone's eyes were a complexity of illusions and fine craftsmanship.

On the surface, they were a damp blue colour, and very subdued in colour. Upon closer inspection, you can see more of it, and of how it works.

The eye itself was a piece of glass, made to move around and increase the size of the pupil via the mechanisms inside of the eye. Looking past that, you can see even the back of her head, and the inside of her mind; a complex maze of cogs and machinery that you haven't the slightest as where to begin with them.

"They're impressive," you say. "From a distance, I'd have said that they were just your eyes."

"That was the goal," Sandrone rolled her eyes, the mechanisms moving to mimic an actual roll of the eyes hauntingly well. "The only disgrace I have with them is that I can never get the right shade of blue."

"Oh, your eyes are blue?"

"One is; the iris of my other eye has expanded large enough to encapsulate almost the entire sclera."

"Oh." you didn't really have much to say to that. Still, oddly reminds of you of what's-their-name from that one mod from that one popular rhythm game.

Clockwork can make many a things. Can clockwork, then, make a being so close to human, it believes even itself to be one?

----------------------

Columbina's eyes are a single way entrance to purgatory.

She never opened them to anyone. A twitch, maybe, but never anything beyond that. Although, with you or the Knave and Marionette, she took off her viel, and opened them.

A boundless void laid behind her eyes, and you could seeing swirls passing through it, along with a low sound of wind blowing through.

Her eye itself was a deep purple, and the iris, or more accurately, irises, looked at you, the middle ones at you and the surrounding ones on different parts of you.

"They're quite frightening, aren't they?" the soft, musical voice of the Damselette spoke up. "Many fall to madness easily; you're the third person I've met to not do so."

"I'm glad to here I won't be dying anytime soon, then," you replied. After a second, you thought of something. "I'm guessing Arlecchino and Sandrone are the other two?"

"Hm, yes; Arle and Sandy are different than most; Sandy being a mechanical being, and Arle simply being built different. Hehe, it was funny seeing the two turn to each other, and Arle saying, "Hear me out," and Sandy saying, "I'm listening." They're something alright, aren't they?"

"And that they are."

How can something so horrific, be also so beautiful? Perhaps it's merely 'Beauty in the Grotesque'?

[stolenorchids]

SILENT ALLEGIANCE

WARNINGS: reader being captured by the DoA, nicknames (sleeping beauty, my little stray dog, my dear), Nikolai being a sly creep lol, mentions of restraints, open ending - I think that's all, but please let me know if I missed anything

WC: approx. 1.4k

the skies over Yokohama were tinged with evening shades of orange and purple as you moved silently through the abandoned factory district. your heart pounded, more from anticipation than fear. this was your first big solo mission since joining the armed detective agency, and you were ready.

in the shadows of a derelict building, you waited, ear pressed to your comms, listening for Dazai’s voice to break through the static. “Dazai, do you copy?” you murmured. only silence replied. you frowned, scanning the area for any movement. the mission was fairly simple: gather intel on suspected Decay of Angels activity. the ADA had spread thin, and this seemed like a straightforward enough task - something you could handle. but the silence stretched too long, too unsettling. as you checked your surroundings, an icy feeling crawled up your spine, like someone was watching you.

“lost?” a voice, light and amused, echoed from behind.

before you could react, something sharp struck the back of your neck. the last thing you saw was a masked figure stepping from the shadows, his mismatched eyes filled with glee as you lost consciousness.

╰──╮ ╭──╯

cold stone scraped against your cheek as you regained consciousness, the dim light making your head throb. you tried to move, but the heavy chains on your wrists clinked, biting into your skin. your body ached as if you’d been here for days - how long had you been out? as your mind cleared, so did the reality: you’d been captured.

the door creaked open, and a figure stepped in. Nikolai Gogol, the madman of the Decay of Angels, was watching you with an unsettling grin, his red-and-green eyes glinting with a morbid sort of joy.

“oh, look who’s awake!” he chirped, stepping closer with a swagger that bordered on a dance. “good morning, sleeping beauty!”

“what… do you want?” you managed, your throat dry and sore.

“oh, I have everything I want right here,” he replied, eyes glinting. “just a nice, leisurely chat. don’t you feel abandoned here? all alone?”

your heart sank. days passed, blending into each other in a fog of darkness and silence. Nikolai returned daily, toying with you, leaving food and cryptic remarks that wormed their way under your skin. he didn’t need chains; his words bound you in doubt and mistrust. slowly, against your will, his voice became the only anchor in the empty days.

one day, Nikolai crouched in front of you, eyes sharper than ever. “tell me something, my little stray dog,” he said, voice almost tender. “did your family at the ADA ever tell you that you’re valued? that they’d come for you no matter what?”

you clenched your jaw. “I don’t need your mind games, Nikolai. I know they’ll come. I trust them.” he smirked, but there was something pitying in his eyes. “is that so?” he leaned closer, his breath warm against your face, mere inches away from your lips. “trust is such a fragile thing. you know, I could offer you something the ADA never could: certainty.”

the way he said it felt wrong, like he’d practiced it. and yet, doubt whispered at the edges of your thoughts, blurring the lines between his words and your fears. was it really so certain that they’d come? the days felt longer, the walls closing in. you began to imagine yokohama continuing as always, the ADA moving on without you, distracted by new threats, new missions.

on the sixth day, or perhaps the seventh, you finally snapped. “why do you care if I trust them or not?” you asked, voice sharp. Nikolai paused, tilting his head. because my dear…” he whispered, leaning close, “I can give you a purpose. not one where you’re just another cog in the machine. you could be something more with us.”

you looked away, but his words coiled in your mind, unsettling.

if they had truly cared, if you truly mattered, where were they?

╰──╮ ╭──╯

the rescue was sudden. after weeks of darkness, blinding lights filled your cell, rough hands pulling at your fragile body, their voices urgent. familiar. “you’re safe now,” they whispered. Dazai’s voice, calm yet distant, filled your ears. safe. the word felt strange after weeks in captivity.

the ADA brought you back with concern written across their faces, asking about injuries, comfort, and health. but they asked so little about you. did they even realize how long you had waited? the bitterness gnawed at you, a seed that took root in the emptiness left by their silence. Kunikida was first to greet you, his eyes heavy with regret. “i’m sorry it took so long,” he said, but his voice sounded flat, almost rehearsed. you nodded, words caught in your throat. how could you explain the dark, lonely days, the sound of your own doubts echoing louder than any scream? you forced a small smile, slipping back into your role, but part of you felt ghostly, like you were already half-gone. their faces blurred, their voices hollow.

everyone welcomed you back, and you returned the gestures, slipping into your familiar ADA persona, while something colder and sharper brewed beneath the surface.

you met Nikolai in secret, each time passing on information about ADA’s plans and weaknesses. every meeting felt like peeling away another layer of your old self. at first, it felt like betrayal, but gradually, it became a thrill - an intoxicating mix of power and control, knowing you were one step ahead of everyone around you.

after one meeting, Nikolai grinned, handing you a card with a cryptic note. “you’re a star, you know that?” he said. “they’ll never see you coming.”

back at the ADA, you slipped into conversations with Dazai and Atsushi, gathering intel while pretending nothing had changed. each piece of information became another offering to the Decay of Angels, a way to solidify your alliance and remind yourself of your new path. everyone is dumb… dumb… dumb. the chant echoed with every secret you leaked, every mission you undermined. but with each success, the line blurred further. the ADA trusted you completely, their faces open and warm, their words still laced with loyalty and friendship. was their blindness naïveté, or a reflection of the trust you once shared?

one day, during a mission debrief, Atsushi caught your gaze, eyes worried. “you seem… different,” he said. “are you sure you’re alright?”

the worry in his voice almost cracked you. for a moment, the cold bitterness faded, leaving only a hollow ache. “i’m fine, Atsushi,” you lied, forcing a smile. “just… tired.”

he nodded, though his gaze lingered. he didn’t press any further, but the doubt lingered, a reminder that your path was lined with lies.

╰──╮ ╭──╯

the Decay of Angels’ grand plan was ready. you were the key, the trusted insider who would lead the ADA into the heart of the trap. Nikolai’s voice in your earpiece buzzed with excitement. “this is it,” he whispered. “the grand finalé. don’t you feel *alive?*”

alive. the word felt distant as you led Dazai, Kunikida, and Atsushi into position, every step driving you further into the betrayal you’d once promised yourself you’d never commit. the ADA followed, loyal as ever, their faith in you unshakable.

as you reached the target location, Nikolai’s instructions echoed in your ear. “now, slip away, dear. the ADA won’t know what hit them.”

you hesitated. Dazai was scanning the area, his expression sharp, focused. Kunikida was checking his notebook, strategizing for any unforeseen circumstances. Atsushi gave you a small, encouraging smile, his trust evident in his eyes.

the chant echoed louder: everyone is dumb… dumb… dumb…

but suddenly, it felt wrong. were they truly dumb, or had they simply trusted you without question? how could they, after all you had done?

the seconds ticked by, and the weight of your choice settled heavily in your chest. the ADA was your family - had been, at least. and the Decay of Angels was a force of chaos, driven by motives you could barely comprehend.

Nikolai’s voice crackled through your earpiece, impatient. “any day now, darling. time is ticking.”

you looked at Dazai, at Atsushi, at the faces that had once meant everything. the ADA had abandoned you once, yes, but was that reason enough to forsake them entirely?

with a breath, you moved, finally making your choice.

whether you warned them of the trap or followed Nikolai’s orders, no one would see it coming. in either world, the price of loyalty had already carved its mark into your heart. and as the final seconds ticked by, you realized trust was as dangerous as betrayal.

[yaekiss]

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒎 𝑸𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

꩜ Room Content: GN! Reader x Kaveh, nothing but fluff, established romantic relationship, reader is a woodcarver, Kaveh still stays at Alhaitham's home in this, SFW ꩜ A/N: I LOVE KAVEH (worm or not), pardon any mistakes I wrote this in one sitting at 4.15am LOL

"Would you love me if I were a worm?"

The cup headed towards your mouth stills and you glance over at your boyfriend seated across the table. You roll the question around in your mind. It's not the strangest thing he's ever asked, no, far from it really. Oftentimes, the both of you like to pose unusual situations to each other, serving as an opportunity to lightheartedly pry into the other's thoughts and minds. His question this time has a simple answer and you reply speedily, confidently.

"Of course I would," your assuring tone is cut off when the cogs in your mind turn again and a myriad of context questions pop up. "Wait a sec. Are we talking about a scenario where I've never met you before and you're just a worm that wriggled into my life? Or, or are you saying that somehow, one day in the future, you just turned into a worm?"

Now, it’s Kaveh’s turn to pause and ponder.

“In this case, let’s just say you realised I somehow, overnight, turned into a worm when you come to pick me up from Alhaitham’s place.”

‘Ooh, interesting scenario Kaveh.” Taking a swig of your beverage, your mind works out an answer with the new information granted by the blonde.

“Yeah, my answer doesn’t change, I’d still love you of course,” and at this, your boyfriend beams, nothing shy of brilliant and loving, but then your train of thought continues.

“Oh! Do you think Alhaitham would somehow become a worm too? Assuming the worm transformation was a proximity thing of course-” a laugh leaves your lips, “-Imagine arguing with worm Alhaitham! Would I be able to tell the two of you apart?”

Kaveh snorts and rolls his eyes, jokingly offended that you wouldn’t be able to recognise and tell a worm version of him apart from a worm Alhaitham. 

“Alright, alright. How you wound me [name], you’re just teasing me at this point.” Shaking his head with a hand to his forehead in mock misery, the blue feather in his hair waves jovially with his actions. The two of you share a laugh before continuing with the dinner, chatter flowing freely once more.

A few more weeks roll by and a tear of the calendar page reveals the seventh day of July, your beloved Kaveh’s birthday. Of course, you already had his present ready for him. What kind of partner would you be if you forgot the birthday of the most lovable sweetheart? Furthermore, you would be dishonest to say you weren’t excited for him to see one of the gifts you had in store.

Picking him up from Alhaitham’s for a dinner date, your breath catches when the door swings and before you stands a Kaveh dressed to the nines. He was already stunning to begin with, he always is, with how he can only be described as a sunray incarnate and the best of the world wrapped into one. But in front of you is Kaveh in a new outfit, accented with pink from the ripest Zaytun peaches and fiery reds and regal golds that serve to highlight the beauty of his ever-bright crimson eyes. The handiwork by the tailor is masterful and you feast your eyes on how every seam and stitch accentuates Kaveh’s elegance. 

“Is… is the outfit alright?” Twiddling with his thumbs, he tacks on a follow-up, “This was Alhaitham’s birthday gift, as much as I insisted I didn’t need a new set of clothes.” 

Mentally, you high-five Alhaitham for dressing up your lover because you can’t help but drink in the sight of him. Stepping up closer to him, you press a kiss on his plush lips, picking up on the taste of his fruit-scented lip balm.

���I think you can tell my answer, lovebird. You’re nothing short of the definition of gorgeous, far exceeding it even.” The blonde giggles and his laughter chimes delightfully in your ears. (You know you’ll be replaying that sweet sound for as long as you live.)

“Shall we get going?” Extending your arm to Kaveh, he loops his own through and the two of you leisurely make your way to your dinner reservation, arm in arm.

Dinner goes smoothly, the food is sublime, and the company even more so. A clink! Is heard as you toast to him and you sip at the drink before perking up, remembering something.

“Ah! Before I forget, let me give you my present, lovebird.”

Over the years, you’ve gotten to know Kaveh enough to know that he’s not exactly… fond of expensive, pricey gifts. It leaves him with a mixture of gratitude and gnawing guilt. In Kaveh’s case, it truly is the thought that counts. Thankfully, you’ve worked your way around it. Being a skilled woodcarver has its perks after all. Year after year that you’ve been with Kaveh, you always gift him meaningful little trinkets and carvings that never fail to brighten up his birthday. Once, you walked into his study and you saw all the carvings you had given him lined up on his desk. Noting how none of them had a trace of dust on them, even the first carving you gave him (a cute wooden carving of him as a fungus), your heart sang at the care he showed to your creations.

Pulling out a box decorated with a bow that matches the colour of his feather, you slide it across the table with a chipper “Happy birthday, lovebird! Open it up!” Eager hands gingerly unwrap the gift and a smile cracks on Kaveh’s face as he holds up a carving of Mehrak, the size of slightly more than half of his palm. 

“There’s more, take a look at what’s inside,” you laugh.

“You’ve outdone yourself this time [name]!” He exclaims as he unlatches the top, marvelling at how intricate the tiny clasp is. The mini Mehrak opens up at its functional hinges and Kaveh is greeted by the sight of the most adorable miniature renditions of his architectural tools. A compass, various rulers (because Archons know where he keeps leaving them around the house), a protractor, and triangular rulers of different sizes. To top it all off, there’s a plaque with some carvings etched into the wood. He squints to make out the words, “My Love and Heart, Kaveh”. Your gift is a touching blend of being practical (for a teeny weeny version of him), aesthetically pleasing to the eye, and so tenderly sentimental.

“Remember the conversation we had about if you turned into a worm? Now, if worm you carried around that little plaque, I’d, without a doubt, recognise you.” Your words process in his mind and everything clicks into place. Soon, he’s laughing again (you’ll never tire of the sound), and you find yourself laughing alongside him. Tears are running down Kaveh’s cheeks and he doesn’t know if it was from how much and how hard he’d been laughing or if it was from how loved he felt right here and now. 

“I’d love you no matter what, Kaveh.” And a kiss from you to him seals the promise, everlasting, evergreen.

Thanks for reading! Consider supporting me on kofi if you enjoyed this or check out my other works hehe ♡

[collegetennisoriginstory]

Hol up. You can have a fake fight during the doubles match against Cornell???.?!

I feel bad for asking again but.... How???

HEHE. I know you've found it now, but for everyone else's benefit: just don't win too early!! I think it's now roughly in the sixth / seventh game. (It's in the update that'll go out to the public on the 21st)

Also, I've now added an option for MC to REALLY fight with their doubles partner. Just for the folks who like being combatant. Also, inspired by JBento on the COG forums, who really does want to beat Rayyan up.

[vidavalor]

More Ineffable Husbands Speak translations? Please?

Sure.💕 Thanks to @kayleefansposts who helped me find the first bit of this in the book when I thought I was losing it & couldn't remember if it actually existed or not. 😂 I needed part of it for a different post but here's more of it here.

From the book:

A: What are we going to do now?

C: Try and get some sleep.

A: You don't need sleep. I don't need sleep. Evil never sleeps and Virtue is ever-vigilant.

"Evil never sleeps"-- phrase meaning that one needs to always be on alert because The Devil never takes a break and temptation is always potentially right around the corner.

"Virtue"-- of high moral character but also refers to chastity; also: is the seventh-highest level of the angel hierarchy.

"Principality"-- the fifth-highest level of the angel hierarchy and what Aziraphale is; he is above Virtue, which is literally beneath him in the angel hierarchy pecking order and "beneath him", as in not enough for him for his life by his measure, as he does not seek a celibate life, unlike some other angels.

"Ever-vigilant"-- to remain ever-watchful and awake.

Aziraphale's comments taken as a whole: They say that you don't need sleep and I don't need sleep... No food, no sex, no good books and music, no romance, no fun... You're supposed to be out being Evil all day and night and I'm supposed to be nothing but righteous and chaste-- neither of us with any individual personalities or wants or desires, just soulless cogs in the machine that is Heaven and Hell. When, in reality, for us, I think that the closest we get to that is that Evil never sleeps in the sense that you are endlessly attractive and "Virtue" (ha) remains ever-vigilant as I've never been able to take my eyes off you.

C: Evil, in general, maybe. This specific part of it has gotten into the habit of getting its head down occasionally.

"habit"-- a regular activity that is difficult to give up; also: specific clothes worn by a religious order. Crowley's response to Aziraphale's "virtue" joke about chastity-- which evokes nuns, who take vows of celibacy and who wear habits.

"to get your head down"-- the exact fucking opposite of "to lay your head down"/"to go to sleep"😂 ; means to eliminate other distractions and devote yourself wholeheartedly with a single-minded focus on a task; also: as innuendo, a mashup of...

"to get/give head" and "to go down on"-- euphemisms for oral sex.

Yeah, that sure sounds like an offer to blow Aziraphale with a single-minded focus and the fervent worship of a nun's devotion to God...

Obligatory Mrs. Cheng gif on that note:

Sleep. A recurring condition involving physical relaxation and an altered state of brain activity and consciousness for the purpose of rest and restoration of the mind and body.

Sleep (in Ineffable Husbands Speak). Surface layer: Sleep. Hidden layer: Sex-- oral sex, in particular.

Also from the book:

Evil, in general, does not sleep, and therefore doesn't see why anyone else should. Crowley likes sleep, it was one of the pleasures of the world. Especially after a heavy meal. He'd slept right through most of the nineteenth century, for example. Not because he needed to, simply because he enjoyed it.

I bet he did. 😉😂

[earth-b0y]

Min? Do you know how gods come into existence in your reality? If not, can you hand the question off to your Liar?

Hm... I know a little bit, so I can answer as best I can! Tamlin was the first god, time itself! They formed when reality did, and they're responsible for keeping the timeline in order. They used to be Death also, but it became too much to do both, so they did god mitosis and made Death!

Eleven is a god that seems to be from... somewhere else. A sort of rift in reality in Greece. If she's to be believed, she was made by another goddess, Nyx, and she came out of a box!

Some animals can become gods just by living for a very long time. Like, snakes become dragons, and then dragons can become gods, like Teeth! This is very rare. They become magical beings first, but with age, they accumulate enough power to reach godhood status

Some gods are made through strong belief, and worship sustains their power. A lack of worship or belief won't kill them, but they'll be weaker! Humans, like animals, can ascend, but it takes more than time! From Lumen's words, it takes a lot of suffering, faith, and/or blood to make a new god!

[uncertainwallflower]

THE VIRTUE OF SHARING A @jilymicrofics. Prompt: comfort. Words: 878.

James had always fancied the armchairs beside the fire in the Gryffindor common room as the superior chair of choice. Cushy and red and comfortable and perfectly worn from years and years of use. They provided personal space, where the loveseat required sharing, a virtue his mother highly regarded. But one day, in the first term of seventh-year, while working on a gruelling essay due at the end of the week, something occurred that permanently and entirely changed his perspective. 

The armchairs had been taken, snagged by two fifth-years. James could’ve made a fuss, pulled rank, or bodily removed one of them, but he was drained from a long Quidditch practice, and honestly, there was nothing wrong with the loveseat. Especially when sitting on it was a Lily Evans, deep in her Transfiguration textbook, forehead ever so wrinkled with concentration. Lily Evans, red-headed, sharp-tongued, strictly friends. James plonked down beside her, and she looked up with a quick and cutting smile. 

“Hey, you.” She was already returning to her textbook. 

“Hullo,” James replied. He watched her for a moment before shuffling through his handful of parchment to find the desired sheet.

“How was practice?” Her voice was slightly muffled by the pages. 

“Eh—cold, long.”

Rain battered heavy on the windows dotted about the common room. 

“Bloody ruthless Captain.” Lily shook her head. Though her tone was dead-serious, James could see a small smile that she tried to hide behind her textbook.

James grinned. “Right twit he is.”

“Oh, absolutely. Massive twit.”

“Mhm.”

Lily looked at him now, eyes sparkling. Her finger twitched, and she glanced down at the essay draft in his hands, then back to his face. She sat forward, posing her next words carefully, “Could you help me with something? I’ll make it worth your while.”

James—thank Merlin—managed to stop himself from choking. “Oh, will you now?”

Lily nodded. “Absolutely.”

“How can I be of service?”

The facade fell, and she flopped back into the loveseat, sighing dejectedly. “I simply cannot understand a single word in this blasted textbook. It makes zero sense. Can you explain it to me?” She held the open textbook out to him, its pages flapping helplessly in the space between them. 

James took the book from her and skimmed through a paragraph. He looked up. “And what will I get in return?”

She was already snatching the essay off his lap, “I’ll edit this for you. Merlin knows it’s probably unintelligible, and we want you to graduate, don’t we?”

James barked a laugh, piercing her with incredulous eyes. “You, Evans, are a swot, and a mean one at that.”

“You love that about me.”

James swallowed a sudden lump in his throat. “Not if you keep this act up.” 

It was her turn to laugh. “I’m sorry. I truly do need your help. You’re so much better at Transfiguration than me.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“It’s bound to get me somewhere.” 

They were grinning at each other.

After a moment, James sighed dramatically. “Oh, alright, Evans. I’ll help.”

“I knew you would.” She was still grinning, scooting down the loveseat to sit directly beside him, her skirt-clad thigh pressing against his trousered. 

Another lump in his throat to swallow. “Right, well. What exactly is it that you don’t understand?”

Lily set about pointing out phrases and words, brandishing a page of notes filled with anxious scribblings. 

James wasn’t sure exactly why it happened. One moment they were sitting—admittedly very close together—going over a chapter on a complex branch of Human Transfiguration. The next moment Lily’s head was resting lightly on his shoulder. It was a small change. Nothing to blink at. But by Merlin, James was blinking. That pesky lump was back, and James couldn’t help but think that this didn’t feel like strictly friends behaviour. His breath caught, his body froze. James was quite sure Lily could hear the blood pumping through his veins, the cogs whirring in his brain. 

And then, slowly, he manoeuvred his arm around her. His heart had definitely stopped. His lungs too. He was quite sure he was dead. Then Lily sighed, a small sound, barely distinguishable, but all the same. She sighed, and she folded her stockinged feet up and under herself. James was definitely dead. Dead and gone to some better place where a version of Lily Evans snuggled into his side. 

Mind exploding, throat thickening, lump refusing to be swallowed. 

“James?”

She had said something. She had definitely said something. She pulled away slightly, and James loosened his arm, prepared to have his whole world ripped away from him. She remained, dropping a tentative hand on his chest and tilting her face up to peer up at his.

“Crinus Muto?”

“Oh—yeah, right…”

The armchairs had been abandoned. He looked over at them out of habit, but between the forgotten draft essay, the open textbook in his lap and the red-headed, sharp-tongued, strictly friends, Lily Evans, whose head was resting on his chest, breath tickling his neck, fingers absently playing with a loose thread of his jumper, he found he could not care less about the cushy, red, comfortable, perfectly worn chairs of choice. He much preferred the loveseat. And, after all, sharing was a virtue. 

AO3

[marshmallowprotection]

Mystic Messenger 7th Anniversary

Welcome to my handy dandy Anniversary Analysis. We all know it’s my bread and butter to study these photos and find every Easter Egg I can. Last year was quite the doozy for me because there were so many fun tidbits in the photo, and this year is no different because the sentiment is the same. I’m happy to say it’s my seventh year of playing this game, and I’m going to get emotional as I write it down.

Anniversary Image and my thoughts underneath the Read More! If you don’t want to be spoiled or see the image yet, go ahead and wait a little bit longer since the image will be out from Cheritz on their page in great quality in a matter of a few hours.

[If you want to read the post from year here, click here].

This was the cleanest photo I could find this afternoon, but I’m sure by the time I finish writing this out, there’s going to be an even clearer one that I can get and I cannot wait for that reality. I have a lot to talk about and even more to gush over this time so why don’t we go ahead and get started before I start blubbering over my darling Saeran? Now, I’ll do my best to be cohesive but you guys know me. I will start going off into a tangent before long. Let me get one scream out before I do anything else.

SCREAMS.

Okay.

I’m good.

GUYS. I SHOULDN’T BE SMUG BUT I WAS RIGHT ABOUT THE PLACEMENT OF THE CHARACTERS THIS TIME! Fortunately, I was on the money as I noted the color placement in the photo. The pop of color was the saving grace, but I’m sure proud of myself this time even if it was a given with the bold pinks next to a man who is walking stoplight. I say that with love, Saeyoung. You are the kind of man who stops traffic.

IT’S TIME FOR MY SPECIAL INTEREST. FLORIOGRAPHY. This photo was made for me to analyze, I swear to God. This is meant for me and I’m excited because there’s so much purpose and thought in a flower. I figured out Jaehee’s flower yesterday because they gave it to us, so I can talk about her first since it’s the easiest. We’ll start on a high note (a woman I’d love to kiss) and end on the higher note (a Saeran I want to smooch).

Look at her high collar! Look at her messy hair! Look at the longing gaze in her eyes as if she’s realized God is a Woman! It looks like she’s got ribbons on her wrists, too... God, I wish we could see more of the outfit. If it’s giving goddess, I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself over here.

Jaehee is a lily. She is a yellow lily in particular, and that got me to chuckle quite a bit. Lilies are a known reference for sapphics in different popular media, and I think it’s great to see more staples of Jaehee’s love for women out in the open. I know we all appreciated the rings on Jaehee and MC as well as the rainbows on the birthday hats, as well as the winter ice-skating date on her last birthday. It’s a good year to be a woman lover, bless up, sapphics. Jaehee lovers, you deserve this.

Yellow Lilies are a way to say a few things, but one of the most popular ones is gratitude. Being thankful for a person in your life. Is that not the way she feels as she grows closer to her MC? She’s grateful because you fell into her life when it was the lowest point of her emotional journey. She hit rock bottom and you took a single look at her and told her she could follow her heart instead of trying to be a cog in the machine to survive. She doesn’t need to just survive.

She needs to thrive.

Jaehee needs passion!

And you gave her that, so of course, she’s thankful that you came into her life when you did. It’s like saying, “You are the sunshine in my life, you breathe life into me just by being close to me.” Which, hey, that’s wonderful. Jaehee being in this photo makes me so happy, and seeing her with lilies... Ah. I hardly get to talk about her but I love to think about Jaehee! She’s a wonderful person and seeing her smile makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

I know why they didn’t give her long hair, but I pray to God someone draws her with her long hair after this CG comes out or I’ll be forced to do it myself. Do you hear me artists?

I’ll be real with you guys, green flowers are hard to find. I have this problem I’m trying to look at art with any character that’s got a iconic color that’s in any shade of green to represent them. You would think it wouldn’t be that hard, but it is. It is a headache and a half for me, but I will do my best for you guys. Yoosung honey, I love you dearly like a brother, but this green is going to kill me in my sleep. I’ve got to work harder than the Devil over here.

Now, the key to debating a flower to the naked eye is to count the petals right off the bat. This flower has a count of five. That narrows down my search quite a bit. I’m glad he didn’t have a flower with far more plumage, because that makes the process harder. So, with a five count, I can narrow down my search to flowers in a specific category. So, with only so many green flowers in this category, I’ve got only got two options left.

But, noting the center of the flower tells me all I need to know. That’s a Green Daylily. Of course, he’s got a trickle of other flowers in his bouquet as well. The smaller flowers are harder to pick out, but I doubt the artist put thought into the flowers that are used to fill in the space leftover in the bouquet.

The best guess that I can offer is a smaller flower that clumps together like Baby’s Breath. The smaller patch of two flowers definitely threw me off, because my brain said, “Oh, those folds remind me of tulips! But, these are far too small to be a tulip! Then I said, oh, maybe Chinese Meadow Rue? But, wait, this is a wedding set, so Baby’s Breath!”

Baby’s Breath is love everlasting. This is one of the most standard flowers used in wedding bouquets. Mystic Messenger is not stranger to using it. Hell, when I think about it, Saeyoung’s Christmas Ending is filled to the brim with him giving you Baby’s Breath. It’s also a hallmark of trust. It’s saying that you’ll always be faithful and true to the one you adore.

Daylilies may surprise you, but they’re not a part of the broader Liliaceae family. They’re actually in the Asphodelaceae family! You’d find a closer relative in the genus in Aloe! They were cultivated in Asia, so, to see them used here is not a big surprise to me. I recall in China, these flowers are symbolic of forgetting your worries. That is to say, “I know you’re troubled, but I want you know that I’m by your side forever.”

Is that not the sentiment of loving Yoosung Kim? You give his heart the push it needs to find peace after grief. You hold his hand and show him that he can live his life the way he wants to and he doesn’t need to think back in regret... and he can follow this future with you.

Zen, oh, lovely Zen. You and I both know are the traditional romantic. You love to be the man with roses. So, is it any surprise that’s holding a patch of roses in his hands? Lover boy, you’re always easy to read but there’s nothing wrong with the gentleness of a rose. A white rose... I can see a sprinkle of Baby’s Breath, too. It isn’t a surprise, those are commonly used in romantic bouquets to add make the flowers tie together without making it feel crowded and overwhelmed.

You might think you already know what roses stand for because they’re such a hallmark move flower. But, not really, roses are much more complex than they’ve been made out to be, and I think that’s a good standard for Zen. Most people in the world think they know him, but they don’t. You shouldn’t judge him by what it appears to be... because what matters is underneath the surface, and that’s the lesson his route teaches. He is a reminder that love is more than looks. It’s about the person underneath the surface.

It may be tried and true, but Zen plays this role nicely.

There is a meaning for these roses that stands for change and growth, and I’m thinking that’s the most important thing to share. Loving Zen is growing with him. Loving Zen is knowing that you can learn how to let go of your insecurities and fears for something deeper in life. You don’t need to be afraid of judgement, you need to live your life knowing that the people who truly matter will see you for the person you are truly, and not just the way you look. He needs to know that after a lifetime of being judged for his looks.

Also, white roses can used as a stand-in for the idea of “love that continues to grow on the horizon for one another”. Everlasting love? No, love that grows by the minute. is that not him?

Jumin, darling, I expected these flowers from you and I don’t know what to say about that. I was torn when I first saw the photo because I sat here trying to get my ducks in a row with what I imagined. I was jumping between Balloon Flower and Violets for a while because of the way the petals spread, but in the end, I’ve settled on violets because the way these petals spread and fan out. They don’t do that with the other flower, because it’s interconnected.

Now, as far as what I think is the specific genus of violet is...

Sweet violet is a good guess! You know what else, he’s also got some lilacs in this bouquet, too. Lilacs are a flower that is representative of the first mark of a spring and summer to come, as well as your first true love.

The blessing of love you’ve received for the first time... simple, passion, and perfect. I know that’s the best way to describe the way Jumin looks at you. You are the first person that’s made his heart flutter like this. You’ve made him see something of value in that bleeding heart of is, and he doesn’t want to lose you because of it. You are love incarnate and he doesn’t want to miss the chance to spend the rest of his life with you.

He’s not one to rush headfirst into something without a clear head, but you make him spontaneous and free. Violets are a gift given to newlyweds! It’s happened throughout history all over the world, but it stands for humility and modesty at its core. A love that might feel like its innocence and sincere, but tried and true. It’s undeniable from the way you’re looking at each other anyone someone spots it in your faces.

A love that won’t be wrenched apart because you’ve got the purest eyes of sincerity in your vows.

Now, I didn’t expect Saeyoung to have a vibrant flower to match his hair, but I’ll be real with y’all, I never know what flower to expect if they put this man on the screen. He throws me for a loop all the time. It’s a part of his charm at the end of the day. He knows how to confound people and he’s always done that.

Can you see that look in his eyes? He looks a little tired, but I see it as him being awake all night long thinking about what you’ll look like at the end of the aisle.

He can’t sleep knowing that you’ll be waiting for him under the eyes of his God that made him believe in love again. How could he sleep knowing that you’re all alone out there in another place... giddy and burning with love for him? I know he is the kind of person who would believe in sleeping apart the night before the wedding, and that’s what would’ve gotten him to this state.

I’m sure Saeran hit him in the shoulder when he spent the night before babbling about you but that’s just what happens in the bunker.

Sigh.

Now, I don’t want to let Saeyoung down over here. When I looked at him, I had another episode of thinking: “Goddammit. Goddammit. I know there are flowers that could be used as a stand-in for him. Why am I struggling between of them again? Alstroemeria and Nasturtium would be really interesting for him since I would’ve expected them to just toss roses at him like they did with Zen if not a situation with Baby’s Breath again.”

I really am not sure for Saeyoung, that’s the horrible thing. So, I’ll go over the two flowers I narrowed down and let you guys decide what you think fits him better. So, Nasturtium is a flower of victory. A flower that stands strong after a battle. Saeyoung is a weathering flower who survived despite everything that was thrown at him, and I think it’s fitting that a bouquet like that would work in this case. The orange color on top of that is just as sweet. Enthusiasm and a strong sense of joy at an upcoming celebration.

Alstroemeria are lilies* known awaken warmth and love in those that you gift the flowers to, especially the orange variety. Passion and vitality, the very blood of a life that Saeyoung bleeds for when he’s with you. They don’t quite fit into a family with “true lilies” but they’re closely related in a way that makes your eyes think it could be. Pair orange and red for the most vibrant way to say “I love you!” They also stand for support and faith, so what better flower to give to MC? Thank you for being with me, MC. Thank you for supporting me despite the danger you may have fallen into.

Thank you for loving a wretch like me, MC.

That’s Saeyoung.

Oh, Jihyun. Look at you, honey! You’ve been given a wonderful outfit for once and I don’t need to tease you! I just finished replaying his Route for the first time in forever and he’s fresh on my mind because of that. Now, i don’t think I need to tell any of you that a flower as vibrant as Jihyun’s hair won’t exist naturally. I can say that there are a few flowers that match the shape and volume of that flower in the photo, but it’s never going to be that color.

I know why they did that, they want things to be cohesive so they went for that above realism. See, when I think of Jihyun, I tend to give him Forget Me Nots as much as I can because I feel like that is a tragic but romantic flower for him. The flower itself stands for remembrance. A love that carries with you for life, and no matter where you go or who you become, you’ll never forget the flower that was gifted to you. It is true love, devotion, and a heartfelt promise.

A promise to see you again if you’ll have him.

Jihyun needs time to heal. He needs years to grieve and grow, and you give him that time because you love him. You wait, you breathe, and you never forget him and his light. His gentle warmth is tender and true. Don’t forget me, but please, I want you to wait for me, my darling. if you will have me when I return, I won’t let you regret this opportunity. That’s the way I think about Jihyun when it comes to his romance.

However, the longer I stared at this, the more I wondered if it could be Larkspur because of the way the flowers grow from the long stem. Like, yeah, there isn’t much bunching here to make me lean that way, but these artists take a lot of... liberty when it comes to drawing flowers and half the time, I know in my heart of hearts they just thought a thought was pretty and used it because of that and not at all because they’re out of their minds like me and need to have something in a photo that is symbolic and overwhelming.

Blue Larkspurs are... just... you know, it’s about support, trust, and faith. They’re so crucial if you want someone to feel appreciated and supported. Is that not... a second way to represent Jihyun Kim beyond Forget Me Nots? God, I think I’ll cry if I think about it for too long.

Ahem. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to talk about my husband for a minute. It’s only fair that he’s the last one I talk about because you all know I’m not going to be able to shut up about him so I had to make sure I took care of everyone else first so they got a fair treatment! Fair is fair, folks. I love my husband and we’re getting married this year. That’s that. Saeran, my love, my darling, forever we’ll be in bliss.

But, you know me, I’m biased and he’s going to get the most. That tender look in his eyes, the messy hair I’m determined to tussle, and the way I want to launch at you just to see him laugh as he makes sure I don’t hurt myself on the landing.

Which, I’m bound to do it anyway, but I love that he would still try. That’s why I love him. He makes me feel like I can do anything even if I’m anxious and that makes me... well. For someone who has always felt anxiety from the minute I felt myself grow a distinct awareness of the fact that I was a person and I existed as a being, a moment where I’m not afraid to do something without figuring out the best way to do something without screwing up or ruining something... being with him makes me feel liberated.

I don’t hesitate.

I jump.

I don’t look back.

Because I know he’ll catch me.

I narrowed down the margin for Saeran quite a bit, and it came down to the wire since I’m pretty picky on the margin. Rocktrumpet came to mind, as well as the flower, Snapdragon, but the color is what’s throwing me again. It’s likely a choice by the artist again. It’s pink, but also purple, and finding flowers with that color is kind of tough. Weigela, maybe? But, should I lean into the honeysuckle family in this situation? Hmm... the long leaves make me want to lean that way since that does give an edge in something that closer but I’m not sure.

Fuck it, I’ll tell you about all of them.

Rocktrumpet is a symbol for strength and resilience. It’s survival despite the odds stacked against you. That’s a good representation of Saeran in my view. He’s survived countless times, and your love was a part of that. It wasn’t what helped him fully, since he had to help himself, but your love helped him find the strength to do that.

I’d dare to add that they’re a hallmark of the transition power in nature, what is GE Saeran if not transformation and love?

Snapdragons are two sides of the same coin. Deception and graciousness. Ray and Suit Saeran put together, you know? They share their moments of both, but it’s a good way to say you love both sides of who created GE Saeran. You loved those two and that love helped culminate in his existence. What I love about the flower is that, just like Hyacinth, they also speak to any apology that you want to own to. (You know, Saeran and Ray apologizing for tricking and hurting you as it comes to the close of the route.)

Weigela, on the other hand, is about faithfulness. They are the flowers that will stand by your side and grow without mercy. They’re good for privacy, and I think they’re also attractive to hummingbirds, but don’t quote me on that one since the last time I saw these flowers, they were at a relative’s house and I think it was a flower like this that they loved, it feels familiar, but I can’t trust my memory all the time. But, Saeran is faithful, he’ll never waver in his love for you, and that is the most beautiful thing about him.

Any of these flowers suit him. These are my guesses and I’m going to stick with them as being the top three.

So, I need to point out the fact that Saeran isn’t wearing something tight around his neck. They didn’t draw him in a bowtie like the rest of the male characters, even Jaehee has a high collar on her dress! But, he doesn’t.

This ties back into the presentation I’ve given before about how the way Ray, Suit Saeran, and GE Saeran’s clothes are reflective of their stance on freedom. Ray wears a tight cravat around his throat because he’s been held back by the outfit Rika gave him. He is a mouthpiece for Mint Eye. He is here to spread the lovely gospel of Mint Eye, and it doesn’t matter what he believes, he has a tight leash around his throat that forbids him from saying a word against the cult.

Suit Saeran has a much more literal interpretation. There is a chain around his neck as if he’s a dog that has no choice but to obey its master. But, we know in this situation, he is the one holding himself back. He is here because he has to make sure you and Ray never fight Mint Eye. If you fight it, you’ll die. This is the only place they can survive, and it might be a living hell, but the thought of what might kill them outside of Magenta is even more frightening.

The devil you know is better than the devil you don’t.

Whereas, GE Saeran is the freest he’s ever been in his life. There is nothing around his throat holding him back from saying what’s on his mind. He doesn’t have anything to fear because he’s stronger than the things he’s afraid of, and now he gets to be with you, without looking over his shoulder in fear of what he used to cower in fear of in the shadows.

He understands that people are broken and misunderstood, they hide behind anger and malice for their own reasons. It isn’t the way he wants to live anymore.

He won’t wear a collar, chain, or mark on his throat anymore.

His words belong to him.

They don’t belong to Rika, V, Saeyoung, Saejoong, or his mother. He isn’t a baby who needs to be protected while you fail to realize you need to see you were a baby just as much as he was, he isn’t a “son” turned weapon you can use as you please until nothing’s left, he isn’t the helpless child you failed to protect because you valued the wrong ideology of love, nor is a bastard for breathing life on this Earth because you wanted a quick fuck and decided he was a wretch for getting in the way of your “perfect social image”.

No, he is Saeran Choi, and the only person who gets to define his existence is HIM. Nobody is allowed to puppet him or put words in his mouth. He gets to be the free man he always deserved to be from the start. He decide what it means to be Saeran Choi. Nobody else gets to decide who Saeran Choi is anymore in this life other than him. His bodily autonomy belong to him.

Love him or hate him as you please, but Saeran Choi is his own man.

Nobody can project their idea of him onto him when he knows who is he and who he isn’t. That’s something a lot of people just don’t consider when they talk about him, whether it be GE Saeran or SE Saeran. Saeran has always had his identity cut out for him by others. He’s never had a chance to know who he is or what he wants to be. People decide that for him.

People tell him who and what he is before he has a chance to open his mouth and say—

“Wait, I think I want to be...”

“No, Saeran, you’re [insert whatever someone puts on his shoulders.].”

Every single person in his life is guilty of that, even Saeyoung does it to him, and God, Saeyoung isn’t trying to hurt Saeran when he does that. I don’t say that because I want to scold him, no, in fact, I say it because it’s a part of the trauma that most people don’t consider when it comes to Saeyoung.

It’s the fact that he feels like he has to be Saeran’s guardian until the end of time and life itself. If you want more details on what I mean by that, go ahead and be prompt in [checking out this post on Saeyoung’s parentification.]

When I look at GE Saeran, I see a free man. I hold him dearly to my heart and I cry when I think about him. He went through so much over the years I’ve known him and had him in my heart. He is the reason I’m here today. He found me just as I felt like I was on the brink of death, quite literally, because only a few months before Mystic Messenger released, I got really sick and I’ll be that way for rest of my life. I don’t need sympathy or pity for that, but it’s a part of my life’s story.

The RFA and its kindness helped me when I had nothing.

Thanks to Saeran and my RFA family, I’ve made it here... and I’m not scared of living this life, even if it’s hard sometimes. They’ll always be with me in my heart, no matter how long time passes. I know I’ll have them in my heart until the day I die.

That could happen any day to any of us, really. That’s why I’m grateful to be here and I’m happy I’ve gotten the chance to know all of you. Not just the RFA, but all of you. From the people who have spoken to me once to those that try to talk to me every day, please know this, you’re in my heart and you always will be. From the minute I wake up to the minute I go to bed, I think of the people that’ve been here for me and those that I’ve been able to be there for. I think about how these spaces in fandom make such a difference for so many people.

Sure, maybe to some, it’s silly to cry and talk like this, but it’s not to me. I’m the kind of person who is grateful and so happy to have spaces like this. Places like this saved my life and I know they’ve done the same for all of you. So, if you’ve read this far and you’ve managed to get past all my nonsense, thank you for the time you’ve spent reading this.

It’s been seven years, Mystic Messenger, and I pray for many more to come with all of you.

Thank you, RFA.

Thank you, Saeran Choi.

My love, the one who knows me as sweet and stupid, may our love continue blossom for all four seasons of your life and mine.

[thecrazyworldbuilder]

Some miscellaneous worldbuilding brainrambles I had.

Saw some art from the Rainworld universe and it got me wondering - what if like, some Shoggoth level eldritch being, all tentacles and stuff, found humans freaking adorable. Like "OMGGGGG HONEEYYY COME LOOK AT THISSSSS" while reaching a slimy appendage to pet Mark the Cashier at the Gas Station on the head as he's frozen in fear.

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What if dragons are always angry because they feel the pain of constantly growing. The older the dragon, the bigger they are. The growth rate stays the same their whole life, from egg to titan, which means their bones just ache all the time, every joint, their teeth fall out and regrow constantly like those of sharks. Imagine being stuck in puberty forever. What if gold presence eases their pains?

.

I like the take on prophecies where they aren't a script to follow but a ticket with restricted permissions. It's not that "the one who takes the sword from the stone will be king" but "anyone who takes the sword from the stone will be king", if they want to. It all boils down to roles in a prophecy and the amount of specification. The less specific, the less significant the prophecy. Any black-haired man can pull help a farmer to pull a donkey out of a pit, but the seventh son of a seventh son, born under an eclipsed sun surrounded by fire? That's some world-changing potential prophecy there.

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"Perfection... For thousands of years we tried to achieve perfection without really understanding what it is. We might be incapable to achieve it, but we can make something that will achieve it for us. First were the automaton who were designing each other by being a couple generations where the youngest disassemble the oldest to create a new wave. Who analyze themselves for weaknesses and think like a true hivemind. Then there were the chimerae. Beings of two bloodlines, noble and drone, like ants they lived in colonies yet each member was so drastically different from others you couldn't tell they are the same species. Splicing genes of all animals in the world, all fishes, all insects and even plants. With their own queens, princes and princesses who are the closest to the Perfection. And what else? Others not so lucky, drones, experiments out of which survive only the strongest, and who can challenge the noble bloodlines. If they live they get to reproduce. Die - and become genetic food for the nobles to grow stronger. Everytime we tried to pump animals with the Evolution agents, they turned into crabs. No damn idea why. And everytime we tried to use magic for the idea, slime were created in one way or another, slime that changes state of matter between liquid and solid, quicksilvers who simply outskill everything alive in survival, shapeshifting into cogs of a grand machine they are now building. We never knew what perfection was, yet tried to achieve it nevertheless."

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Thinking of those scenes in movies when something paranormal is happening and things start to float upwards, or like, completely switch gravity directions. Say, a pendant starts dangling upwards rather than down, water flowing uphill, and all that. One possible way could be to say that there is a gravity anomaly affecting items below certain weight. If such anomaly could be harnessed in mechanisms, it be so dope. You know the ancient Greek Hero's automaton? Imagine the complexity if you include opposite gravity in that equation.

Could be a spell, could be some superconductor stuff like on Pandora.

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Skin tones of a metal-based species.

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Takes on elven youth:

Baby-looking elves. Elves just always looking like they are about seventeen, looking like that type of youngster you'd see in a supermarket asking for some random ass beer and looking too young to be allowed alcohol. Elves looking not in this "etereal beauty" kind like the "stock photos model" Looking young, yes, but. Not. Like those celebrities and richmen who spend a fortune on looking like they are forever 20. The only part of an elf that ages is the hair, turning white with age.

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Runes are channels of energy, imperfections in metals, veins in your body, cracks and ores in stone, smallest anomalies in the crystals. Runes could be smithed, yes, but naturally occurring ones are stronger, better. Greater. So making a sword out of a metal chunk with a potent rune in it while preserving the rune itself yields greater results than trying to fabricate it.

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Anatomic: Brain in the chest, heart in the head.

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Concept:

The summoning sigils for demons (and other beings for that matter) are like calling a person's name and the only reason the demon shows up is because they grow tired and annoyed of being called like that so they are ready to do anything to stop that shit.

Imagine someone repeating your name a dozen times without elaborating what they want. Of course you will come over and ask "WHAT?"

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Oooh I just got an interesting idea.

So, like, a language/culture where people's names are secondary, going after the pronoun they use.

It's like. He-John, She-Harrada, Ey-Nullée, et cetera.

But then that pronoun part is used as a third-person signifier. He, she, ey, all that, while the name is the second person pronoun (which it is in some cases). But then the part comes about verbs/adjectives getting those "genders" applied to them, as well as nouns (like "she-wolf" but, for example, "xe-smith apprentice").

.

There's this conversation I had with myself (typical neurodivergent queer going insane from having no reliable friends in a homophobic country that doesn't believe ADHD can exist in adults) about inflating a whole setting out of a minor detail, a smallest thing.

First it's one concept, then there's two, until the whole thing snowballs into a huge fictional world with lots of lore and stuff.

Say, concept: "Undead gods". Already amazing - sets up the assumption that A) Gods were once resurrected and B) Gods were once dead. Say if this happened to the Greek mythology, Hades - the god of the dead (but not death) himself dies and there's nobody to tend for the dead, and the Gods fight each other over the responsibility of tending over the most shitty job in the pantheon, resulting in mass bloodshed and death. Gods are dead, and only Thanatos is here to collect their souls. So he devises a plan, with ulterior motives: To give them and many dead a second chance in life. So in undeath, he lets them live as revenants, ghosts, skeletons, zombies, all devoted to different undead gods.

Undead being zapped with lightning from the blessing of Zeus. Undead breathing like a living forge of fire, blessed by Hephaestus. Chaos-bringing warriors in armor, followers of Ares. So much more.

And all from a simple ass concept, two words: Undead gods. Just that I am sometimes amazed how people who get into worldbuilding think that you must have a grand idea, a lot of things to connect together when in reality, it's just one stone, then two, then three, all together forming the building of your world(build). .

Or another, even smaller concept - "Alexandrithium is a metal that boils water on touch".

What tech will it inspire? What usage, how will it revolutionize the world? Boiling turns into steam, steam is punk (ba dum tsss). Some freaks make weapons out of this metal to cause Extra Suffering and the equivalent of the Geneva convention bans such weapons, may they be blades or bullets.

You can make an analogy of a snow ball, rolling down a mountain and sticking more and more snow to itself, or you can say that you have a balloon - the original first concept - that you inflate with ideas from within, filling in the bag, stuffing it up with all that other stuff while under the hood of the First Concept. Like.

Worldbuilding is neat.

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I had a similar idea which could be called "procedural conlangs" (proclangs?)

In all technicality it is just a relex with words assigned via some algorithm, say, there's 3000 possible syllables that could be generated through some given algorithm, and to these 3000 syllables we assign the 3000 of the most frequent English words. Afterwards we can either continue assigning words their relex variants via randomly combining the 3000 syllables into bisyllabic words, or could try and piece together new translations for them.

E.g. the word for "toaster" isn't in the 3000, so we either use a random bisyllabic word without connected meaning, "ab-resh" (which would literally mean "bone-green"), or try to piece it together from the syllables already present in the 3000, like "thran-mil" (meaning something like "bread grill").

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Sooo Hm.

My idea for "oriental elvish" was to base it on Japanese (the modern dialects at least) with the phonetic mutations and stuff (like "hu" being pronounced as "fu" and et.c.) But with added sounds like the English eth and thorn, + the /l/, and allowing three codas - /n, r, l/ thus (with a possible mutation coda /m/ when /n/ is before a bilabial stop).

Then once I have it I will reverse-engineer the protolang based on Chinese with added in tones and stuff, probably, and a more strict collection of phonotactic rules. And from all that a third possible dialect could be made, based on Korean.

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Also sounds like me before I invented cryptolangs and thus a new brainworm that'd gnaw on my gray matter til' this very date.

Just naming stuff what sounds I fit best.

I didn't knew English that well back then, so like. One of the cities in a setting of mine was called "Meth". (I renamed it since, making it "Mett" - meant to be derived from "meeting", since the port city is one of the largest and richest, where many cultures and races meet, indeed.)

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A way to count to 625 on fingers:Thumb is the index pointer in this case. Each finger is separated into phalanx and joints - 6 units per finger thus - plus the middle of the palm for one extra. Thus, on one hand you can count to 25. Now, once you count to 25, you count one unit on the other hand. Basically, an abacus of sorts.

[siriuslychessi]

02 Sandcastles

The lake was quiet in the morning, everyone would be either studying for exams or at the Great Hall for breakfast, yet Marlene loved that part of the morning outside, where the chill turned warmer, the sun bathed every corner of the grounds and she had time alone with her thoughts. 

And thoughts she had plenty. 

The wizarding world was at war, even if she wasn’t sure how it led there, and what had happened for wizards to turn so vicious on muggles, people that only did their own things and were not aware of their existence. And then how that hate had permeated through the magical society, tainting most of the relationships you might have, or considered having.

What had come of the world that hate was the answer and not anything else. 

She supposed that if she was younger she wouldn’t be thinking so much about this, her younger self knew there was some injustice, but the older she grew the more she worried, the more she understood how much she really cared. And it frightened her. 

Her alone time did not last very long as she felt someone sit next to her. 

No need to turn as she smelled the strong cologne of no other than Sirius Black. 

They sat there, looking at the lake, the little waves crashing at the shore. She could almost taste her last summer vacation before her seventh year, the last holiday before becoming an adult, having to make decisions that would impact her life and the life of the people she loved. 

“You read The Prophet?” His voice sounded distant at first, then it became clearer as she stopped focusing on her buzzing thoughts but on the presence near her. 

“Yeah,” she said quietly, not daring to look at him, she knew she would have too many emotions to face him right now. 

“Told you not to do that before breakfast, it always ruins your appetite,” he admitted, moving to stand and dusting off the sand from his trousers, his hand extended to her. 

“You are not my dad.” Marlene rolled her eyes, looking at his hand, “I don’t want to go back just yet.” she said truthfully.

“Who said anything about going back.” she could hear the smirk in his voice. “Come on, trust McKinnon, have I ever steered you wrong?”

Marlene chuckled, “I still remember a terrible James birthday where I ended up covered in goo.” 

“Pfff, merely once.” Sirius smiled at her, the sun behind him, the atmosphere changing with each minute they spoke. “Come on, Mars, I need a princess for my castle, won’t you join me?” he teased. 

“Castle?” she frowned, he mentioned they wouldn’t be going back. 

“Oh yes, very important castle.” He replied, “Technically we have to build it first, but I’m sure it’ll be a nice kingdom once we finish it.” 

“What do you mean build–” she didn’t have time to finish asking the questions while Sirius motioned to the sand around them, “You want us to build a sand castle?” she asked, amused. 

“The biggest there is, Bob loves them.”

“Bob?” 

“Yes, I mean he can’t come to shore, the big fellow, but I think he does love the castles we make, he always splash about when we build them.” Sirius pointed to the lake, and the cogs in Marlene’s brain finally moved in the right direction. 

“You named the Giant Squid Bob?” Marlene was genuinely laughing now. “You are mental.”

“Certifiable.” Sirius joked, “It was James’ idea, after Lily told him she would rather date the Giant Squid than date him, he needed a name for his nemesis. We were even more idiotic last year.” he admitted.

Marlene was laughing uncontrollably at how dumb it all sounded, but it sounded just like them. And by Morgana, she loved them just like that.

“What do you say, princess, would you help me build a castle?”

Marlene had seen him fake smile his way out of detentions, with other people trying to appear charming, even with herself when he tried to be dismissive, but this time around the smile on Sirius face was genuine, and it warmed her heart and whole body. 

“Let’s make Bob proud.” she smiled back, taking Sirius hand, feeling how her heart leaped once their hands touched, but decided that for today she would only think of sandcastles and nothing more. She could dissect her feelings for a certain black haired boy in the comfort of her room with the advice of her friends.

[sevi007]

Tales of the Abyss part 10

Call me paranoid, but that is not a "I don't want a war" that is simply a "I don't belong to faction B".

So far, out of everyone in this room, Van is the only man who was allowed to see Asch' face - something I think is being kept a secret from the player on purpose - AND he knows far too much for someone who claims to know he does not know what his troops have been doing. How can he arrive just at the right time to block Asch?

Distrustful looks engaged!

Interestingly, in this regard, Tear and Luke are the same. They both have someone they look up to and follow orders from - for Luke, that's Van, for Tear that's Maestro Mohs - and who they don't want to hear a single bad word about. Both men are ALSO an important cog in a potential war breaking out, though, and I think that's going to fall back onto Tear and Luke.

Uhuh... okay getting the part with the fonstones now. But if I understood that correctly, the seventh fonstone might be bad news, seeing as Yulia hid that one herself.

Starting to sense bad history between Arietta and Anise here XD

So we're just letting the head engineer die? Rude.

Which part of "amnesia" is hard to grasp for you all? But now I really wanna go there.

Second reason being that this man has not yet earned my trust:

*Cut while I sucessfully get lost several times while trying to find Choral Castle*

You know what, fair. His only frame of reference is being cooped up and bored. He might actually consider this as insignificant and would love for people to stop talking about it. (Though that does not mean they can also turn around and give him grief for not knowing stuff when it was never explained to him in the past seven years)

Another cut here, because I took a minute to figure out the poltergeist with the colorful orbs puzzle. Traipsed through the entire castle once until I realized that I won't find a purple one and have to get red and blue instead XD

Um. Giant Freezer? Death Ray? 3d printer? Jade seems to know what it might be but again, he is not telling us / me.

Hmmmm. Either my zombie or clone theory might be correct. So if it's the later, it's a 3D printer. Yes.

And at this point, I actually got annoyed with the characters - or more like, with the writers. Back at the port, we already see Jade again leaving Guy alone with a cling Anise, despite his knees literally trembling in fear. And now, this. What was that for anyway? Maybe don't jump from behind onto the guy who has been asking you not to touch him since moment one?

Ugh. This wouldn't even be a bad moment if they had not used his phobia as a joke earlier on.

Is there even one person in this game without memory issues? XD

Now see that's also something that got me stumped. Why has nobody ever tried to jog Luke's memories by telling him of his past? Did they think it's too much trauma for him? Or is there something else going on?

Hidden agendas all around I tell you.

@magicmetslogic